


Christmas Spirits

by purajobot935



Series: The Jazz Collection [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Christmas, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Other, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purajobot935/pseuds/purajobot935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Moving On' and the rest of the Jazz Collection. It's been several months since the end of the Hate Plague. How are the Ark-bots, under Jazz's command, dealing with the consequences...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Spirits

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,  
Let your heart be light.  
Next year all our troubles will be out of sight._

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,  
Make the yuletide gay.  
From now on our troubles will be miles away._

_Here we are as in olden days,  
Happy golden days of yore.  
Faithful friends who are dear to us,  
Gather near to us, once more._

_Through the years we all will be together,  
If the fates allow.  
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough._

_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now._

::: Dear Anna,

You’re probably wondering, up there wherever you are, why I’ve not been by to see you for a long while. Truth is, we had ourselves a crisis down here. In a way I’m glad you’re in a better place right now, ‘cause if you’d still been here I don’t know if I’d have been able to protect you at all. Protect you from what? Oh yeah, well, from what I’ve been able to gather, some humans brought back some wacky space dust and decided to try and end the world. The space dust apparently made you hate everyone around you. Somehow they managed to infect some of the other Autobots, who in turn infected some Decepticons, and eventually it spread to the humans. They called it the Hate Plague.

We first sensed trouble when our connection to Metroplex and Teletran 2 was suddenly cut off without warning. So Mirage decided to head over to Autobot City and see what had happened, while I put the rest of the Ark-bots on medium alert. Well, since ‘Raj was all invisible, no one was able to see him, and thus, touch him, so he managed to make it back to the Ark uninfected.

After he told me what was going on, I had no choice but to put the Ark on an immediate lockdown. No one goes out, no one comes in. thankfully none of my guys got infected. Trailbreaker whipped up a super forcefield to block off the entrance to the Ark, and Hound, Inferno and myself put all the sensors and alarms on full power. Had to shut down Teletran 1 as well.

So we had no contact with the outside world whatsoever for about a month or so, and we stayed updated via good old FM radio. It’s a good thing these guys are already more than used to each others’ company or they might have ended up killing each other, Hate Plague or no. Thank goodness for DVDs and video games which kept us all occupied during the lockdown, otherwise the cabin fever would have gone through the roof.

Once everything was over – how, I don’t know, I’m just happy its over – most of us were busy helping the neighboring small towns that were affected by the Plague, rebuilding homes, helping those injured with our technology, stuff like that. We only finished a couple of months ago… And then the Twins wanted to celebrate Christmas all over again.

To be honest, I really don’t mind. After all that’s happened we could all do with some celebrating. And don’t you worry about me. I’m starting to accept my leadership role now, I’ve moved on. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you and the rest of the guys that are gone, but I’m dealing.

Merry Christmas Anna.

Love Jazz:::

Jazz folded up the letter he’d been reading out loud and placed it at the base of a tombstone that had just been brushed clean of snow. Of all the Autobots he knew, he was one of the rare few who could still write legibly with human-sized pen and paper. Besides, hand-written letters were more personal somehow. Next to the letter, Jazz placed a boquet of wildflowers he’d picked from the area surrounding the Ark and tied together with a blue ribbon. Then he drew out a lavendar-scented candle and placed it on top of the letter. He summoned his photon rifle, set it to a low charge and fired. The candle spluttered to life with a small flame that flickered in the mild breeze.

His job done, Jazz stood up from his kneeling position, patted the head of the tombstone once, then turned and made his way back to the street. There he transformed and drove away from the cemetery.

In a way, Jazz liked coming back there. It wasn’t as morbid or scary as some humans thought. The cemetery was the one place that he could come to for some peace and quiet, and to think. Besides, with Anna’s parents in Scotland and her uncle Leo having his own family to take care of, Jazz had actually volunteered to maintain his little friend’s grave.

_Silver Bells, Silver Bells  
Its Christmas time in the city  
Ring-a-ling, hear them ring  
Soon it will be Christmas Day._

Jazz cruised down the street at an easy pace, letting his sensors take in the sights, sounds and smells of the small town around him. Shop windows were framed with holly, fake snow and fairy lights. Fruity or floral wreaths hung on doors, and colors of red, green, gold and white greeted him from every corner. Bright colors, joyous colors. Scents of cinnamon, baking flour and sugar, coffee and an assortment of other traditional spices wafted htrough his olfactory sensors. Hundreds of footsteps mingled with the many Christmas carols that played from the buildings around him, but above all these rose the crystal clear pealing of church bells from the nearby Sacred Heart cathedral.

Jazz liked the sound. It echoed the pure, traditional old-world charm without the taint of modernization. And it was a sound unique to Earth. Cybertron never had anything that sounded half as beautiful as those church bells, and he often found himself wishing the humans wouldn’t take it for granted. Another car honked behind him, startling him out of his thoughts. He found that he had slowed considerably to listen to the bells, and with an apologetic rev of his engine to the driver, he picked up speed again, pulling a little to the left so the driver could overtake him. He was in no hurry to do anything this day.

Jazz observed the people around him. Many of them seemed happy and content with themselves, as if they’d been like this all year through. He knew that was not the case. Yet, why was it that at Christmas, people always seemed to be happier? Was it because of Christmas bonuses? Lots of discounted sales? Receiving gifts? All the parties? He knew that was the case for some. Before he’d left Earth for a while, Anna had often lamented to him in her messages that Christmas was becoming more and more commercialized. People had stopped celebrating the true meaning of Christmas.

But what was the true meaning, Jazz wondered. And if the humans themselves didn’t know, how would an Autobot? He sighed heavily to himself, wondering since when he’d become this thoughtful and serious. The answer came to him almost immediately: since Prime and the others had died and he’d survived, since he’d been the only one left that the rest of the Ark-bots would listen to, since he’d become their leader.

Rounding a corner, Jazz found himself on the road that would lead him past Sacred Heart. As he neared it, the pealing of the bells grew louder, and he saw a couple of the church’s youth groups busy setting up a large Nativity scene in the garden just outside the main building. He longed to stop and watch them for a while, but he knew he should be getting back to the Ark. Tracks was not exactly the best person to be left in charge for too long a while. The church would have to wait another day.

Jazz turned onto the road that would take him out of the town and eased onto the Autobot-built highway that led straight to the Ark. It cut through like a black ribbon on a brown, desert landscape that was finely dusted with a layer of snow. The afternoon sun, though not scorching like it was in the summer, was warm enough to melt much of the snow. Jazz made a mental note to tell everyone to keep a check on their tyres, because overnight, that water would soon turn to frost and ice.

The summit of Mount St. Hilary soon appeared on the horizon and grew larger as Jazz neared, until finally the rear engines of the downed Autobot shuttle also came into view. He was home. About 20 feet away from the entrance, he reverted back to robot mode and walked the rest of the way.

A thick, prickly, green wreath of holly stretched across the entire canopy of the entrance. Jazz stepped under it and scrutinized it for a minute. The year before, sideswipe had slipped in a few strands of mistletoe, and the humiliation that ensued for the poor Autobots who happened to be caught under it was not something that he wanted to see repeated. Jazz loved a practical joke as much as the next bot, but a mech had to draw the line somewhere. Satisfied that the entrance was mistletoe-free, Jazz continued on inside, heading to the main Control Room. To his surprise, the Ark was unusually quiet. He turned into the Control Room.

“Hey guys, what’s hap…,” he began and let his sentence fade away when he saw the empty room. He frowned, crossed over to one of the consoles and pressed a button. “Tracks, where are you?”

“Looking for my wax,” came the reply. “Since you’ve given me the most boring job on Earth, I might as well put my time to good use.”

Jazz shook his head. “Just hurry up and get your can back here. And while you’re doing that, you can start telling me where everyone else is.”

Tracks let out an overly dramatic sigh. “Swoop is at school. Bluestreak is at Simon’s working on a new comic book. Hound went off on one of his nature drives with Trailbreaker. Inferno’s in the lounge putting up Christmas decorations and who knows where Mirage has gone off to. Its not like anyone can keep an optic on him.”

Jazz ran through the names in his head and realized that two names hadnt come up. Two very conspicuous names.

“Where are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker?” he asked.

**#**

A black Dodge Viper raced along a stretch of highway, its speed well over the legal limit, weaving in between other vehicles that skidded to the road shoulders in a hasty effort to get out of its way. Before the startled drivers could recover however, a blur of red and yellow flashed past them, too fast for the humans to identify them as vintage Lamborghini Countachs.

“Woohoo!” Sideswipe crowed as he hurtled down the highway. “Now this is what I’m talking about!”

“Shut up and focus,” Sunstreaker growled at his brother.

“Sure I’m focused. ‘Cause now I’m breaking the speed limit legally, I don’t have to worry about getting arrested.”

Sunstreaker swerved sharply to avoid a particularly deep rut in the road, before pulling back alongside Sideswipe. “Lets just nab this slagger and go home. All this tension on my internal mechanics at this temperature cant be good for me.”

“But I thought you liked racing. You used to enjoy it, particularly because it used to bug the scrap out of Prime and Prowl.”

“Yeah well, Prowl and Prime aren’t around anymore so there’s really no point in doing it.” Sunstreaker increased speed and pulled ahead of his brother.

Sideswipe mentally shrugged and floored his accelerator in an effort to catch up. They finally cleared the last of the traffic and entered a fairly deserted stretch of the highway. This was all the Twins needed – no more civilians to worry about. Before they could do anything more however, the driver stuck an arm and his head out of an open window and began shooting at them. Tyres screeching Sunstreaker, who was on the left, slammed on his brakes and swerved in an effort to avoid being hit. The bullets couldn’t kill him of course, but they had all the potential to do a number on his paint job.

“This guy’s crazy,” said Sideswipe. “We’d better catch him before the police arrive or things could get ugly.”

“If he hits me with one of those bullets, things WILL get ugly,” Sunstreaker snarled. “For him.”

“Cant we just shoot out his tyres?”

“Too risky. At the speed he’s going there’s a chance he might flip over and break his neck. And the cops said they want him alive.”

Sideswipe cussed, transformed and fired up his jetpack, all in one swift motion. His momentum carried him all the way over the roof of the car. He somersaulted once in mid-air and landed on the hood.

“Show off,” Sunstreaker muttered.

Sparks flew as Sideswipe’s weight pushed the hood down, causing the front bumper to scrape along the road. He pulled out his weapon and pointed it at the driver.

“Give it up buddy,” he said. “This is where your ride ends.”

In response, the man fired through the windshield at him. Sideswipe barely managed to dodge them, nearly losing his balance. The driver began to fishtail, trying to shake the red Autobot off the car, but Sideswipe, who was used to riding bucking Decepticon Seekers, stuck like glue.

“Sunny, when I give the word, fire straight at the fuel tank,” Sideswipe sent through the comm.link.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Just do it!” Sideswipe looked back and saw a hatch on his brother’s hood open. A laser rifle locked into place.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sunstreaker said.

Sideswipe dodged another bullet and the next second, punched his hand through the windshield and grabbed the man. He drew his hand back – with the man clutched in his fingers – fired up his jetpack and lept into the air.

“Now!” he yelled.

Sunstreaker fired and the following minute, the car exploded in a ball of bright orange and black flame. He stopped and transformed.

“Always gotta end things with a bang dontcha?” he asked as Sideswipe came back down to the ground.

“It’s the best way,” Sideswipe replied with a grin.

The man he still held struggled. “If you do not let me go this instant, I will make you regret it! Do you even know who I am?!”

“I don’t know… maybe the guy who knocked off a toy store and stole all the money that was gonna be donated to the children’s hospital on Christmas Eve,” Sunstreaker said darkly. “And if you don’t cough up the location of the cash, you’re the one who’ll be needing a hospital.”

“B-but you’re Autobots… you wouldn’t.” The man visibly paled.

“Never said we were good Autobots,” said Sideswipe. “Plus, lets not forget you shot a cop, broke the speed limit, put other people in danger with your reckless driving and then decided to shoot at us.”

“And if that’s not a reason for me to hurt you, I don’t know what is,” said Sunstreaker. “Do you know how long it took me to get this finish? Only to have it slagged up by you?”

The sound of wailing sirens drew closer.

“About time they got here,” Sunstreaker growled. He took the man into his own hand and brought him level with his optics. “Now listen pig-slagger. When those nice policemen arrive, you’re gonna let them handcuff you. Then you’re gonna cough up the location of that money you stole, and take a ride downtown to the station. You don’t cooperate, well, I know more than one way to rip a guy’s head off.”

Sunstreaker was just glad the man didn’t wet himself before the police arrived. It only took a flex of the yellow mech’s fingers for the man to start talking. The brothers watched as he was roughly shoved into one of the squad cars – both his hands and feet cuffed. The chief, a well-built, middle-aged man named Baron, turned to them.

“Well, thanks again for your help lads. We’ve been after this guy for a while. You can be assured he wont be out on the streets again for a very long time.”

Sideswipe hitched a shoulder. “Anytime you need us Chief.”

“Let’s hope it wont be for a while,” Baron replied.

The Twins stood and waited till the last police car drove away, then they began walking in the general direction of the Ark. They’d reach the base faster if they went cross-country on foot.

“I’m sorry bro,” Sideswipe said suddenly, as he picked bits of windshield glass from his hand.

Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge. “For what?”

“Talking about Prowl. I know you miss him. I do too.”

“Doesn’t mean we should stop talking about them and forget them completely.”

“Yeah I know.” Sideswipe picked out a few bullets that had lodged in his chassis. “And I know its been a year since we came back and all, but sometimes I still walk into the Medbay expecting to see Ratchet there.”

Sunstreaker’s lips curled into a rare smile. “I know the feeling. Feels odd not having Prowl around to lecture me about my uncaring behavior.”

“At least we still remember them.”

“And sometimes that’s all we can do.” Sunstreaker shrugged. “Primus, lets get outta here before we actually start saying some philosophical slag.”

By this time they reached a road that would link up with the main Autobot highway back to the Ark, so they transformed and sped off.

**#**

_So this is Christmas  
And what have you done?   
Another year over   
And a new one just begun _

_And so this is Christmas  
I hope you have fun   
The near and the dear ones  
The old and the young._

Jazz sat in the lounge, sipping on a mug of energon, while watching Inferno decorate the 10-foot tall Christmas Tree. This year they had simply gone out and bought a plastic one that came complete with its pot. The decorations were again red and gold, much to the delight of the Brothers, so they were able to mix the new decorations with the ones recycled from the previous year.

Inferno was taking his sweet time, holding up each little ornament and admiring it for a while, before hanging it up on the tree. But Jazz was in no real hurry either, so he let the big, red mech do as he liked. He looked like the proverbial kid in a toy store, sitting on the floor in front of the tree, surrounded by toys and ornaments. He held up a little angel, dressed from head to foot in gold and silver.

“She sure is pretty,” he remarked. “Why didn’t we have anything like this back on Cybertron?”

“Because this is yet another thing that is unique to humans,” said Jazz. “Doll-making is actually a very ancient craft.”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but I’d really like to learn it,” Inferno said. 

Jazz was grateful that his visor prevented Inferno from seeing his raised optic ridge. First it had been Bluestreak the artist, then Swoop the high school student, now it was going to be Inferno the doll-maker. Jazz was not one to stereotype, but the mental image of Inferno sewing dolls’ clothes made him grin quite widely.

“Aw c’mon!” Inferno exclaimed. “I know it sounds odd coming from me, but I’m serious. I’d like to try.”

“Hey man, if it means that much to ya, then go right ahead. You don’t need to ask me permission all the time,” Jazz said.

Inferno smiled contently and went back to decorating the tree. Jazz watched him and smiled. Inferno was a good mech and a good friend; and Jazz wanted his friends to be happy. Inferno hung up another snowflake and then glanced around him.

“The way I see it, we’re gonna have a lot of left-over toys,” he said as he picked up another doll, looked at it, then set it aside. “You got anything in mind for them?”

“No, but I’m sure you do,” Jazz replied, knowing the other mech was planning something.

“I do. Y’know in my line of work, we rescue a lot of kids and some of ‘em are really hurt, which means they gotta stay in hospital for a while, even on Christmas Day.”

“And you wanna give the toys to them?” Jazz asked.

“Well… yeah! Its not like we can do anything better with ‘em. I was thinkin’ maybe a Santa hat, and a white beard…”.

“Inferno, if you wanna play Santa to a bunch of injured kids in the hospital, I’m the last person who’s gonna object to that.”

“Hehe, I know. Just had to ask though. You ARE the boss after all.”

“You don’t need my permission to do something like that Inferno. I know how fond you are of human children, so you go ahead and make ‘em happy.”

“Thanks Jazz.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jazz’s sharp audios picked up the sound of an awkward shuffle from just outside the entrance to the lounge. “You can come in Swoop.”

The young Dinobot’s head peeked around the doorway. “Can Swoop talk to Jazz?” he asked.

“Sure you can, c’mon in,” Jazz replied.

When Swoop hesitated, Inferno took it as his cue to get off the floor and out the door.

“I’ll just go see what Tracks is up to,” he said.

Swoop came inside and sat down next to Jaz, who waited patiently for him to start talking. A few minutes passed and still the Dinobot hadnt said a word.

“Y’know, as Special Operations Officer I’m able to do a lot of things,” Jazz said. “But mind-reading aint one of them. So if you don’t start talkin’, I cant help ya.”

“Jazz know how to dance?” Swoop asked.

It wasn’t a question he’d been expecting, but he carried on unphased. “Yeah, I do. I aint no professional, but I can get by well enough.”

“Swoop don’t know how to dance.”

“Well its not really an important skill to have, so it really doesn’t matter whether you can dance or not.”

“It matter to me.”

“Oh… may I ask why?”

“Young humans in school ask me, Swoop, to come to Christmas Dance.”

“Ahh… now its startin’ to make sense. Do you want to go to this party?”

“Me want to go, but not know how to dance. Can Jazz… can you teach me?”

Jazz considered this. He’d remained true to the promise he’d made the year before, about developing Swoop’s medical skills, and had enrolled him in a nearby high school; and so far, the young Dinobot had shown a lot of promise. He learnt fast and was an all-round average student – which was saying something considering the way he’d been when he first came online. The nice thing about the school was that the teachers and most of the kids treated him as if he was another student and not a giant, alien robot. And Jazz really wanted him to fit in and make friends.

“Sure I’ll teach ya Swoop,” he said. “You meet me here over the weekend and I’ll show ya how to bust a few moves.”

“Thank you Jazz,” Swoop replied.

“Its my pleasure Swoop ol’ buddy. Just tell me one thing, any one person in particular ask you to this dance?”

“Just Science Club and few teachers. They say it good way for me to get to know more of school.”

“That’s nice of them.” Jazz’s optics carefully scrutinized the mech sitting next to him. The Dinobot shifted just the slightest bit, as if unsure of what to say next. “Something else you wanna tell me?”

“Swoop have this one friend, his name Connor, and he different from other friends. He don’t walk so well, always with limp. When I ask why, he say it because of sickness he have when he was a baby. He not liked much by other, more popular boys and girls. They tell me it because he strange.”

Jazz leaned forward a little bit, optics fixed keenly on Swoop’s. “But you like him huh?”

“Me like,” Swoop replied. “He very smart, and he help Swoop a lot during Human Biology lessons. And sometimes I give him ride to school and home when he miss the bus. He say his creators not rich enough to buy car. He a bit like Chip, so me not understand why others call him strange.”

“I think what these other kids mean by ‘strange’ is that he’s not rich and he has a physical disability. Swoop, you know as well as I do that sometimes humans can act a little like Decepticons. The strong guys love to pick on the weaker guy. For Autobots, on the other hand, it’s in our programin’ to always help those who are in need of help. Those codes are embedded into our sparks the moment we are created.”

“I know. That why me like Connor. Me want to be his friend.”

“Wheeljack and Ratchet would be proud of you Swoop.”

The Dinobot beamed. “No one ask Connor to Dance though,” he said, his smile fading a little.

“Then why don’t you ask him? Take him to the Dance with you and let him have a good time.”

“Me guess I could do that.”

Jazz patted him on the shoulder. “You CAN… Now, don’t you have some homework to do?”

Swoop grinned, got up and left the the lounge, with a small, thankful wave to the black and white mech. Jazz leaned back in his seat with a sigh and picked up his can of energon again, intending to finally finish the contents. The Christmas tree stood a little away, calling out to him to look at it, which he did. The decorating was almost finished, each Autobot having contributed to the process. The only ones left were the Twins and himself. Jazz tossed the empty can into the trash bin, then went and stood amongst the spread of toys and decorations.

Crouching down, he gently brushed through the mess till he found what he wanted. He fixed a big, gold star to the back of an angel with big, gold wings, and clothed in a rich maroon fabric. He stood up and stared at the toy in his hands, as a memory that had been long dormant, awoke and clawed its way to the surface of his mind. The memory of an old friend; a best and dear friend, lost millions of years ago, and who now rested somewhere in the depths of Cybertron. He shook his head, dispersing the vision, and attached the decoration to the top of the tree; but shades of it still lingered.

_A very Merry Christmas  
And a Happy New Year   
Let's hope it's a good one   
Without any fear _

_And so this is Christmas  
For weak and for strong   
For rich and the poor ones   
The world is so wrong_

**#**

The Twin screeched to a stop at the entrance of the Ark and transformed. Sideswipe slung a small bag over his shoulder and took in a long, deep breath. Then he exhaled noisily.

“Aahhh, home sweet home,” he said.

“We’d have been back a lot sooner if you hadnt gotten another one of your stupid ideas and taken that slagging detour through that town,” Sunstreaker groused.

“Aw lighten up Sunny, its Christmas – a time for joy, happiness and lots of sugar.”

“Okay. One, sugar doesn’t affect us the way it does some humans. Two, happiness and joy are the same thing, and right now, nothing would make me happier than kicking your manifolds in. So get your little, red, pig-iron aft inside before I start getting frost on my enamel.”

Both took a step inside and automatically looked up at the wreath that stretched above them.

“You didn’t put mistletoe in here again did you?” Sunstreaker asked his brother.

“Nah, that was last year’s joke,” Sideswipe replied.

“So where is it this time?”

“Why Sunny, now that would be telling.”

Sideswipe continued on his merry way in. Sunstreaker glowered at him for a moment, then followed behind. They strolled into the main Control Room, only to find Tracks there, busy buffing an arm panel. Sunstreaker’s upper lip twitched upwards in a momentary look of disgust. Sideswipe, however, went and sat down on the chair next to Tracks, placing the bag at his feet. Tracks turned a wary optic on it. He’d been on the receiving end of many a Sideswipe prank and wasn’t about to start trusting the red mech now.

“Whats in the bag?” he asked.

Sideswipe grinned. “Thought you’d never ask. Let’s see here…”. He rummaged in the bag. “Santa hats, Christmas stockings, candy canes.” He looked up again. “Everything comes in Autobot sizes now. Well… except candy canes.”

Tracks looked over his shoulder at Sunstreaker, who had remained standing just inside the door.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” he said. “We may be brothers, but Sideswipe got the stupidity programing.”

As Tracks turned back to the consoles, Sideswipe popped a Santa hat onto his head canopy. Tracks just stared. Sideswipe reached up, adjusted it a bit, then grinned at his handiwork. Tracks continued to stare as the red mech placed a Christmas stocking across his lap.

“Where’s Jazz?” Sunstreaker asked.

“In his quarters, I think,” Tracks replied. “So take this red lunatic with you and go.”

“Merry Christmas Tracks,” Sideswipe said, as he got up and followed his brother out, bag in hand.

_And so Happy Christmas  
For black and for white   
For yellow and red ones   
Let's stop all the fight._

Jazz sat in his recharge berth, back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, the right crossing over the left at the ankle. The angelic voices of the Vienna Boys Choir drifted out softly from the speakers of his sound system, singing songs of Christmas in quiet harmonies. It was supposed to relax him, and it usually did, but this evening he felt quite distracted. A datapad sat in his hand, which rested on his right thigh, the page unchanged for the last 15 minutes. He couldn’t concentrate. Watching TV was out of the question. They’d be showing nothing but feel-good, family Christmas movies anyway – most of them recycled from the previous year – and as far as family went, he had precious little left. The rest were either dead or in the middle of fighting a war.

There was a difference, he realized, between last year’s Christmas and this year’s. Last year they’d all been so glad to return to Earth and the Ark, that it was indeed cause for celebration. This year… they would celebrate, yes, but on a more somber note, especially after the whole Hate Plague fiasco. While Jazz’s Ark-bots had all been spared, many humans, and Transformers from both factions, had not been so lucky. People had died, and injuries had been high for both species.

He had only contacted Metroplex once since the plague ended and had been advised, by Hot Spot of the Protectobots, to keep their distance from Autobot City till they gave him a definite all-clear and that included communications via Teletran 1. Autobot technicians were still combing every square inch of Metroplex to make sure there were no more spores in his systems. But no one had told him how the plague had been stopped in the first place. Hot Spot had said, a little regretfully, that he wasn’t authorized to discuss it, especially since Jazz and the other Ark-bots were now no longer a part of the Autobot military.

All this was starting to get on his circuits. At least when he’d woken up on Cybertron two years ago after nearly being smelted inside a cannibalistic planet, Perceptor had filled him in on all that he’d been unaware of. Sure, it had been all bad news, but what mattered was that he had been TOLD. Now, there had been no word on, or from, Perceptor, or Blaster for that matter; and they had no way of contacting Cybertron either. Teletran 1 had been too damaged in the Minibots’ battle with the Decepticon fortress Trypticon, to make any long-distance, inter-galactic phone calls... Jazz sighed.

“Wow, lots of Happy Christmas Vibes in here,” Sideswipe said from the door. “And Primus! What is that music?” he asked as he came inside and sat on the end of Jazz’s berth, placing a bag on the floor.

Jazz tossed the datapad onto the nearby desk and swung his legs off the berth, so that he was sitting beside the red mech. 

“Vienna Boys Choir. Saw them perform live one time when I was on assignment in Europe.”

“At least it sounds better than your caterwauling,” Sunstreaker said, as he walked in. “I’ve heard screaming banshees that are more pleasant sounding.” He sat down on the berth, on Jazz’s right.

“Well I havent seen you winning any Grammy awards, so you can stick a neutron in that hole of yours,” Sideswipe replied.

Jazz held up his hands before the yellow Twin could respond. “And that concludes the Sideswipe And Sunstreaker show,” he said. “Tune in to Channel Ark tomorrow for more great cusses and insults from our favorite Lamborghini Twins.”

“No joke,” Sunstreaker said. “We’re your only Lamborghini Twins.”

“Your two and only,” Sideswipe added.

“Thank Primus for small mercies,” Jazz said. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Nothing important,” Sideswipe said. “Just spreading our special brand of sunshine and roses.”

“Which would be what this time?”

Sideswipe plucked a Santa hat out of the bag and placed it on Jazz’s head. He gave it an extra tug so that it fitted snugly on the black and white mech’s helmet. Jazz raised an optic ridge and glanced at Sunstreaker.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “I have nothing to do with my brother’s mental retardation.”

Sideswipe pulled out a green Christmas stocking with a fat, white snowman on it. “We had a successful mission today, so I thought I’d spread some Happy Christmas Vibes to everyone else.”

“When have we NOT been successful?” Sunstreaker asked.

“And you do realize we don’t have a fireplace to hang these stockings up,” Jazz said.

“Hang it on the side of your recharge berth and you may find a surprise in there on Christmas Morning,” Sideswipe said.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jazz replied.

“I’m prank-free this Christmas.”

Sunstreaker snorted. “Yeah, and I’m Prime.”

“You wish,” Sideswipe retorted. “Anyways, c’mon. Y’know I would never do anything to you personally Jazz.”

Jazz smirked. “Frosty the Snowman kinda makes me wanna stick my head in a trash compactor.”

“No problem!” Sideswipe tossed the stocking back and pulled out another one. “Tada! Stars!”

“Why, of all the possible bots on Cybertron, was I sparked with a moron like him?” Sunstreaker asked.

“It could have been worse,” Jazz said. “You could have been sparked with Tracks.” He looked at the deep red stocking and absently counted the big, gold stars on it. There were five. He smiled fondly. “I’ll take it.”

“Good choice,” said Sideswipe. “Tracks got a reindeer with a big red nose.”

“So whats the deal?” Sunstreaker asked. “Before we came in, there was a definite lack of warm-and-fuzzies in here…. Did I just say ‘warm-and-fuzzies’? Damn you Sideswipe!”

“I was just wondering about the rest of the ‘Bots back at Metroplex and on Cybertron,” Jazz said. “Perceptor, Blaster, the rest of our Dino-buddies, Bumblebee. We should have heard something from them by now. This time last year there was a non-stop flow of communication. Now it feels like we’re being cut off.”

“Well, maybe we should drive up there and ask ‘em what the deal is,” said Sideswipe. “Just ‘cause we’re not fighting the stupid war anymore doesn’t mean we’re not Autobots.”

“For once I agree with him,” Sunstreaker said. “If it werent for all of us busting our slagging tailpipes for millions of years, the lot of these new slaggers wouldn’t be standing here, on this very planet that we kept slagging safe for over 20 years.”

“Much as I would like to, I don’t think aggression is the way to go,” said Jazz. “If nothing changes, I’ll drive up there with Mirage and see if we cant get some answers out of Roddy, or Magnus, or whoever…. Speaking of Mirage, where is Mr. Invisible?”

“Who knows.” Sunstreaker shrugged. “Bluestreak came in a little while ago, just after we paid Tracks a visit in the Control Room.”

“Hound and Trailbreaker said they’ll be back tomorrow afternoon,” Sideswipe added. “You might wanna tell Swoop he’ll have a chance to practise his first aid skills when the two of them come in.”

“Which reminds me,” Jazz replied. “I want you two to pop by Swoop’s school once in a while, when you can, just to make sure he’s ok.”

“Why? Someone giving him trouble?” Sunstreaker asked.

“I don’t think so, but he’s made friends with a handicapped boy and, well, you know how mean some kids can be.”

“Yeah, but its not like they can beat Swoop up,” Sideswipe said.

“Ya don’t always need to hit someone to hurt ‘em,” Jazz said. “And I think, now and then, he misses the other Dinobots, especially since we’ve heard nothing from them since we left Cybertron.”

“We’ll keep an optic on him,” Sunstreaker said.

“Why Sunny, I didn’t know you cared about our resident ptyrannodon,” Sideswipe teased.

“I didn’t know you could even say a word like that. And I don’t. I’m doing this as a favor.”

“Thanks,” said Jazz. “And now, there’s a Christmas tree down in the lounge with your names on it. Inferno wants to string up the lights tomorrow, so it’ll be good if you two can finish the decoratin’ tonight.”

“We’re on it,” said Sideswipe….

Jazz settled back in his bunk once the brothers were gone, the Santa hat still on his head, but he didn’t pick up the datapad again. Instead, he stopped the music and pulled out his own guitar, running his fingers across the strings in random tunes. If he kept at it long enough, he might just be able to get a melody out of it. Or at least it was worth a try

_A very Merry Christmas  
And a Happy New Year   
Let's hope it's a good one   
Without any fear_

_War is over!  
If you want it   
War is over!   
War is over, Now!_

**#**

Darkness covered the desert, hiding much of what still moved, even at this late hour – insects, rodents, a coyote or two, and a Formula One race car. The desert was not exactly the place to find one of those, especially a driverless one, unless of course, the race car happened to be Autobot spy Mirage. A beam of light shone from a lone headlight, as tiny as the pin-pricks of stars in the sky, more for the benefit of anyone else who happened to be driving through the desert, than for himself. One didn’t need light when you possessed heightened infra-red sensors. Frost had chilled his outer blue and white metal chassis, and droplets of condensation rolled off him where the cool air met the warmth of his engine, only to be picked up and swept away by an icy breeze. It was supposed to be winter after all.

Mirage felt a little bad about not having told anyone where he was going off to that morning, and he hoped no one was worried about him. Still, eventhough he wasn’t fighting that miserable war any longer, he found it hard to break away from being a spy. Millennia of skulking around stealthily could do that to a mech, he guessed, as did the habit of keeping some agendas personal. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jazz and the others – he trusted them more than he did a lot of others – and it wanst that the others didn’t trust him – most of them had stood up for him, back in the days when his behavior had come across as more than a little suspicious. It was just… habit. Yet now, as he raced down the road, back to the Ark, he knew that this was one secret he could not keep. Jazz had to know. He owed the black and white mech that much.

He reached the entrance of the Ark and transformed in one swift motion. For a brief second he wondered why there was no one on sentry duty, before remembering that this wasn’t the Ark as he had known it to be five years ago. There was nothing a simple security alarm wouldn’t keep out, and it wasn’t as if there was anything of great importance to steal from the Ark anyway.

Mirage rushed down the quiet hallways, past the empty Control Room, and down to the residence level. He didn’t even stop by the lounge for energon. The other ‘Bots were already deep into their recharge cycles, so he passed swiftly and silently down the corridor like a ghost, glancing through the open doorways as he walked. Inferno, Tracks, Swoop, Bluestreak, the Twins. Hound and Trailbreaker, he presumed, were not back from their field trip yet. He finally reached Jazz’s quarters and stood at the doorway to the darkened room. He knocked sharply on the metal plating just inside the dooframe.

“Jazz,” he called softly. “Jazz, its Mirage.”

The darkness was broken by a soft, blue glow that emanated from under Jazz’s visor, indicating the mech had woken up. The strip of blue turned to the door.

“Mirage?” Jazz asked as he sat up. “Everythin’ alright?”

The spy crossed the room, as Jazz called for the lights, and leaned against the edge of Jazz’s desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and hesitated, a little unsure of how to begin.

“You’re gonna tell me why you decided to wake me up at, oh, one in the morning right?” Jazz asked patiently.

“I should have told you where I planned to go last afternoon,” Mirage said.

“’Raj, I trust you, and I know you. You’re not obligated to explain your every action to me. Sometimes we all like to go off and do our own thing, I understand that.”

Mirage shook his head. “I went to Metroplex.”

“You what?” The glow under Jazz’s visor increased in intensity for a second.

“Metroplex, I went there,” Mirage said again. “I know we were told not to come, but I felt there were things we needed to know, that they were not telling us.”

“You could’ve been caught.”

“They cant catch what they cant see. And frankly, after centuries of infiltrating Decepticon ranks unnoticed, sneaking around other Autobots is, as the humans call it, child’s play.”

“Alright, so what else did you find out? Other than the fact that security at Autobot City aint as sharp as it used to be.”

Again Mirage hesitated. “I didn’t hack into any systems, or anything like that.”

Jazz nodded, waiting patiently for the spy to continue. He scrutinized the blue and white mech’s body language. Mirage was tense, not the smooth, fluid posture he usually took on. Occassionally his optics would flare for a brief split-second. Something had spooked Mirage, and added to Jazz’s suspicions that something was off at Autobot City.

“You saw something?” Jazz asked. Mirage nodded. “What?”

“You’ve known me a long time now right, Jazz?”

“That’s pretty much an understatement.”

“And have I ever given you any indication, even once, that I was out of my mind? Have I ever come across to you as the crazy type?”

“Not that I recall. Mirage, just tell me.”

“Well, as I was walking around Metroplex, I thought I saw someone. No, I’m sure I saw someone. Only, it couldn’t possibly be him, because he’s already dead.”

If Jazz had a heart, it would have been pounding in his cheat. “Who did you see?”

Mirage looked Jazz right in the optics. “Optimus Prime.”

In the silence that followed, the sound of a pin dropping would have been considered loud. Jazz didn’t respond, didn’t know how to respond, to that. Mirage was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar, and neither was he the type to make stuff up. So it was quite possible that he HAD seen Optimus Prime – alive. The question that nagged at Jazz however, was: was it the REAL Optimus Prime? The Decepticons had tried on many occassions to fool them with a clone in the past. If what Mirage had seen was another Decepticon copy, it would explain why the Ark-bots were being slowly cut off from the other Autobots.

“I’m not crazy Jazz. I know what I saw and it WAS Optimus Prime,” Mirage said.

“I know you’re not crazy Mirage,” Jazz replied. I believe ya.”

“So what are we going to do? If this IS the real Prime… do we re-join the war? Do we stay as we are?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think its up for us to decide just yet, since they never told us about this. We found out by ourselves, so technically, we’re not supposed to know anything. And if Prime’s alive, it makes me wonder why he hasn’t come down to see us.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know we’re back here. Maybe he hasn’t had the time yet,” Mirage suggested.

“Whatever the case is, don’t tell the others just yet. We’ll give it a few more days to see if Metroplex decides to contact us. If there’s no word from them by next week, then you and I are gonna take a drive up there and have a little chat with ‘em. In the meantime, lets keep up a bit of surveillance of our own.”

“I’ll take a drive up there, now and then, and let you know whats going on.”

“Just don’t get caught…. Thanks Mirage, go get some rest now, and take a break tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Mirage pushed off from the desk and stood up. “Goodnight Jazz. And hey, don’t get yourself too worked up over this. We’ll give it some time like you said, and then worry.”

The spy left, and the room slipped back into darkness. Jazz lay back in his recharge berth again and began to power down, but it was a long time before he could fall asleep again.

**#**

“Well would you look at what the coyotes dragged in,” Sideswipe crowed, when he laid optics on Hound and Trailbreaker.

The two mechs trudged inside, water and mud dripping off their chassis and making nice little puddles along the floor.

“The two o’ you can jolly well clean up the mess you’re making too,” Inferno added. “And you’d better do it before Tracks or Sunstreaker accidentally steps in it.”

“See anything nice on your trip?” Sideswipe asked.

“Oh lots!” Hound said cheerfully, despite the numerous dents, and fluids leaking out of several gashes. “A couple of wolves, some very rare species of birds, a reindeer here and there.”

“And the scenery was breath-taking,” Trailbreaker added. He too was scraped and dented, though not to the extent that Hound was. “Snow-covered mountains, snow-capped trees, icicles hanging off ridges.”

“So basically, just lots of snow,” Sideswipe said.

“Pretty much,” Trailbreaker replied.

“Is Swoop around, or have we missed him?” Hound asked.

“Lets go find out,” Inferno said.

The four mechs headed down to the residency level and stopped outside Swoop’s quarters. Luckily for Hound, the Dinobot hadnt left for school yet.

“You lucky Swoop able to fly,” he said. “Come, we go down to med bay quickly. Me not have much time.”

“So where’s Jazz?” Trailbreaker asked, as they followed Swoop.

“Still asleep I think,” Inferno replied.

“That’s not like Jazz,” Hound said. “Is he alright?”

“He just tired, me think,” Swoop replied. “I wake up in middle of night and hear Mirage go to Jazz’s room. They probably talk all night.”

“About what I wonder,” Sideswipe murmured. “What could be so important that Mirage would want to talk to Jazz at that hour?”

“Well, if they want you to know about it, Jazz’ll tell ya,” Trailbreaker said.

They reached the med bay and Sideswipe detoured off to the lounge on the pretext of hoping to find his brother there. The others stepped inside and found Bluestreak there, standing before a bottle of solvent that was placed on a table in front of him. He was busy cleaning the fingers of his right hand with a rag. He looked up and saw them, and gave them a sheepish grin, as if he’d just been caught with his hand in the energon-goodie jar.

“Hey guys,” he said in greeting. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna get in your way, I know Swoop’s gotta get going to school and all, so I wouldn’t wanna make him late. I’m just trying to get some of this paint and ink off of my fingers before it completely dries and makes me have to break out the acid.”

“Lets hope it doesn’t come to that,” Inferno said.

Most of them were used to Bluestreak’s incessant rambling by now. Infact, none of them ever wanted to hear him NOT babbling about something or the other, because that would mean he was relapsing into the depressed phase he’d gone through while on Cybertron. Most of the other Ark-bots thought that one of the main reasons Jazz had relocated back to the Ark, was to take Bluestreak away from all the bad memories that Cybertron held for him. They wouldn’t have been totally wrong, and Bluestreak HAD shown considerable improvement since coming back to Earth. Though what really went on inside his head, no one really knew.

Swoop picked up an arc-welder and set to work on patching up some of the larger gashes on Hound’s armor, while Inferno helped clean Trailbreaker up. Bluestreak paused and watched them for a moment, before furiously scrubbing the cloth over his fingers again.

“Next time you go on one of your off-roading hikes, can I come too?” he asked. “I’d really like to see what you guys find so fascinating out there. Plus, I’ve never really attempted to paint landscapes, so that would be a good chance for me to try it out.”

“Sure you can come Blue,” said Hound.

“You go,” said Swoop. “But you better not come back here looking like something Constructicon ran over.” He put the welder down and patted Hound’s shoulder. “There, you fixed now. Next time, you be more careful or I have to tie you down to recharge berth.”

With that, the Dinobot quickly walked out of the medbay, transformed and flew off, leaving the others staring after him, a little stunned.

“I swear that kid’s sounding more like Ratchet each time I hear him,” Inferno said.

“Either that, or he’s channelling the old doc himself,” Trailbreaker said with a nod to the portrait of the Chief Medical Officer that hung on a nearby wall. “He’d always been fond of that Dino.”

“He’d always been fond of everyone,” Hound said. “He just never showed it.”

… Sideswipe slowed his pace as soon as he’d cleared the near vicinity of the Med Bay. He didn’t why, but somehow, going inside always made him feel extremely uncomfortable. He knew he owed his life to the medic. Ratchet had brought him back from the brink of death more times than he could count, yet, when Ratchet’s life had been threatened, Sideswipe hadnt even been around to help him, and now he was gone. He knew it wasn’t his fault – Ratchet died on the shuttle, Sideswipe had been stuck at Autobot City – even if his jetpack could sustain him for long flights, he would have never reached them out in the deep of space.

Autobot City. Sideswipe never wanted to see the wretched place again. It was the first time he had ever failed the person he was supposed to protect. Every once in a while he was still haunted by visions of Wheeljack’s wrecked body falling onto him, after the engineer had pushed the injured red warrior out of the way and taken the shot meant to finish him off. Looking back now, maybe it was inevitable that if Ratchet died, Wheeljack would have followed soon after, and vice versa. The two were closer than any of the others had ever imagined.

Still, Sideswipe felt partly responsible, eventhough Jazz, Sunstreaker and even Swoop, had told him it wasn’t his fault. As a result, he avoided the lab even more than he avoided the medbay. He just couldn’t go in and look at the portrait of Wheeljack in the face.

He reached the lounge and stopped short at the door, optics not quite believing what he was seeing. Inside, seated together on a couch in front of the TV, watching a rerun of ‘Home Alone’, mugs of energon in hand, were Tracks and Sunstreaker.

“That’s it then,” he said aloud. “Primus has officially declared that the world as we know it shall end today.”

“Sshhh!” the two mechs hissed at him without even turning their heads in his direction.

Sideswipe made a rude gesture behind their backs, then went to help himself to some energon. He tasted a sip, then made a sour face. Someone had ordered the egg-nog flavor again, and judging by the almost-empty mugs in Tracks’ and Sunstreaker’s hands, he had a pretty good idea who it was. On the TV screen, one of the humans got whacked in an area that made Sideswipe glad he wasn’t a human male. He went and stood behind the couch, gingerly sipping on the energon despite himself.

“If you spill even one drop of that on my armor, I’ll shove that canister up your exhaust pipe,” Sunstreaker said, not taking his optics off the TV screen.

“Yeah, you can try,” Sideswipe replied. “And what are you two doing here anyway? Shouldn’t someone be up in the Control Room?”

“Mirage took over a little while ago,” Tracks said haughtily. “So why don’t you go get on his circuits instead.”

Sideswipe resisted the urge to empty the contents of his mug on Tracks’ head. He rolled his optics and headed out to the Control Room to see what information he could wheedle out of the Autobot spy.

Mirage was leaning back comfortably in one of the big chairs in front of Teletran 1, monitoring several screens of weather reports. He swivelled his chair idly from left to right and back again, and was caught completely off guard when Sideswipe bounded in with a “Hey Mirage!”. The spy sat up with a start, a look of alarm in his optics.

“Woah, take it easy ‘Raj, its just me,” Sideswipe said as he ambled in and dropped into a chair beside the blue and white mech.

“Yeah, sorry. Just didn’t hear you come in,” Mirage replied. 

“Well that’s not very spy-like of you.”

“Ah, but you forget, I’m only a part-time spy now.”

“Uh-huh, and where did you go part-time spying off to yesterday?”

Mirage shot the red mech a wary, sideways glance. “I didn’t go ‘spying’ anywhere. I just took a long drive for some time to myself.”

“It doesn’t explain why you and Jazz had a sudden midnight conversation.”

“You heard us?”

“No, but Swoop heard you go into Jazz’s room.”

“Its nothing Sideswipe, really, just something I had to discuss with Jazz, that couldn’t wait till morning.”

“Y’know its Christmas time, and according to human tradition, Christmas is supposed to be a time of sharing.”

“Yeah, but we’re not humans.”

Sideswipe crossed his arms, a little frustrated that he wasn’t getting any information out of the other mech, but before he could say anything more, Mirage leaned forward and brought up one of the weather screens.

“What is it?” Sideswipe asked him.

“Snow-storm,” Mirage replied. “It probably wont affect us much, out here in the desert, but the people in the small towns… I’d better tell Jazz.”

Sideswipe stood up. “I’ll go get him.”

Mirage watched him go, a little uneasily, before turning back to the screen…. Sideswipe returned with Jazz a while later. The black and white mech still looked a little tired, but that was overshadowed by the cheery smile he wore.

“Whats the situation ‘Raj?” he asked.

The spy pointed to the screen. “There’s a storm coming. Do we tell the people in charge?”

“Well if the humans are smart, they’d already know this,” Jazz replied. “But just in case, we’d better give ‘em a heads-up. Tell them to stock up on food and water incase they get a little more snow than they know what to do with, and keep a line open if they need to contact us for help.”

“I’m on it,” Mirage replied.

“But what about us?” Sideswipe asked. “Will we be affected?”

“I doubt it. And besides, we’ve seen worse than a little snow-storm,” Jazz said.

“Try telling that to Tracks when he finds out he cant go out to the city for a few days,” said Sideswipe.

Jazz beamed. “Thanks for volunteering Sides. Be sure to give him the message now y’hear.”

Sideswipe stared at him for a moment, then hung his head resignedly. “Guess I asked for that one.” He trudged out.

“He suspects something,” Mirage told Jazz. “Swoop heard me go into your room and must have said something to the others. I didn’t tell him though.”

“With any luck he’ll let it go, or forget about it,” Jazz said. “Especially with the whole storm situation now.”

“Lets hope it’ll be nothing more than a few extra dumpings of snow.”

**#**

_Oh the weather outside is frightful  
But the fire is so delightful  
And as long as you love me so  
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow_

It wound up being more than just a few dumpings of snow. It was as if some higher power got a kick out of spiting Mirage and decided to unleash a full-fledged storm. No snow fell in the desert, but the winds howled and raged outside, and buffeted the volcano as if it wanted to rip the mountain apart. Despite this, Swoop still wanted to go out, claiming that his tough Dinobot armor could withstand the gale-force winds outside. He claimed that he needed to work on his biology project with his friend Connor, but Jazz was having none of it. He made a deal with the young bot to have dance lessons on storm-quarantine days, and he could work on his project over the weekend.

All the Ark-bots took turns to monitor Teletran’s weather channels and reports, keeping a close watch on the situation in the cities, and taking note of any problematic areas where their help would most likely be needed. Communication channels were kept open around the clock with the ‘Bots pulling shifts to help monitor them.

“It kinda feels a little like old times again don’t it?” Inferno asked as he sat in the lounge with Trailbreaker and the Twins.

“How so?” the black mech asked.

“The whole being on alert thing. Just waiting to receive the word so you can jump right into the action. I aint gonna lie to ya, sometimes I still miss being right in the thick of things.”

Sideswipe twitched and fidgeted on the couch and finally earned himself a sound smack from his brother, who was seated beside him.

“What the frag Sunny?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“You nearly scratched my enamel, you goat. Cant you just sit still instead of squirming like the worm you are?”

Sideswipe crossed his arms and slumped against the arm-rest without a word. Sunstreaker shot him a look, then went back to watching the TV.

Elsewhere in the Ark, Hound and Mirage pulled their shift in the Control Room. Meanwhile, Jazz, Bluestreak and Tracks were down in what used to be the brig, attempting to teach Swoop how to dance. It was the only place the Dinobot was incapable of breaking anything if he stumbled. Tracks, in fact, just stood on a side and watched, only making rather unhelpful comments everytime Swoop made a mistake. Finally Jazz had had enough. He went over to the sound system, stopped the music and changed CDs.

“Alright Swoop, good job,” he said. “Now, I’m also gonna teach you to slow-dance incase some pretty lady comes up and asks you for a one-on-one.”

Tracks snorted. “Yeah right, how is she even going to reach him?”

An evil glint flashed across Jazz’s visor. Oh, he was going to enjoy this one. “You’d be surprised. Human women can be very resourceful… Okay, so Bluestreak and I will demonstrate a move or two, and you try and copy us okay Swoop?”

“Okay, but who Swoop dance with?” the Dinobot asked.

“Why, Tracks of course,” Jazz replied.

Bluestreak smothered a guffaw as Tracks’ face went slack in horror.

“You cant be serious,” he said. “Why does it have to be me? Why not you or Bluestreak?”

“You’re the only one tall enough. Blue and I are too short for him, and I want him to get used to dancing with someone close to his height first, before working his way down.”

Jazz winked at Bluestreak, who giggled again and came up to where Jazz was standing. Jazz hit the music and a ballad with a slight waltz rhythem came on. Then, with absolutely no qualms at all, Jazz took Bluestreak’s left hand in his right, they placed their free hands on each others’ shoulders and then began to dance. Swoop looked at Tracks, who squirmed. Finally he flung his hands up.

“Oh alright! Come here.”

The music, henceforth, was then punctuated by yelps of pain and dismay from Tracks, as Swoop accidentally kicked and stepped on him more time than Jazz cared to count. In the middle of this, Sideswipe came in and stopped short at the door.

“What… the… frag?!” he exclaimed. “I’m not even going to ask, ‘cause I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”

Tracks immediately chose this time to let go, and quickly backed away from Swoop, going into a corner and inspecting his legs for scratches and dents. There were a fair number. Sideswipe glanced at Jazz who, by this time, had stopped dancing with Bluestreak, and saw a wicked smile on the black and white mech’s face. He quickly guessed that the whole thing had been a way getting back at Tracks.

“Whats up Sides?” Bluestreak asked.

“Well, Inferno and Trailbreaker are exchanging old war stories, Sunny’s watching ‘How The Grinch Stole Christmas’, Hound and Mirage are watching weather reports, so I came down here to see if it was a little more entertaining. Lets just say I’m not disappointed.”

“Glad we could be of service,” said Jazz.

“Speak for yourself,” Tracks muttered as he stalked out. “Now I have to go wax my legs.”

The other four burst out into hysterical laughter.

“That was not funny!” Tracks yelled from down the corridor, but he only succeeded in making them laugh harder.

When Jazz at last got a hold of himself, he placed a hand on Swoop’s shoulder. “Alright Swoop, lets get back to the serious stuff shall we?”

“Me ready when you are Jazz,” he replied.

…The morning of the second day of the storm began much like the first – lots of angry winter weather and nothing much else. The afternoon however…

“What have we got?” Jazz asked as he hurried into the Control Room where Mirage and Hound were still pulling storm-watch duty.

“State border-town sent out an SOS,” Hound said. “Lightning has caused a couple of fires to break out, some people are snowed in their houses.”

“Give me the details along the way.” Jazz hit a button on the console. “Inferno, Trailbreaker, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker. Assemble front and center. We got some rescuin’ to do.”

…Miraculously, for the entire half an hour’s drive, Sunstreaker had not complained once about how the storm was going to affect his paint job, as he and his brother led the way down the deserted highways. Wind and snow lashed at them for most of the journey, and any normal vehicle would have been forced off the road by now. Jazz was quite grateful for their tough Cybertronian armor.

“Smoke up ahead,” Inferno announced. “We’re almost there.”

Thankfully, as they neared the town, the storm eased up considerably and they were able to see what lay in front of them – and who. Five very familiar figures were about to get started on damage control when the five Ark-bots pulled up and transformed.

“Well, look at what the turbo-rats dragged out,” Blades of the Protectobots said. “Finally decided to crawl out of your hole huh?”

Sunstreaker clenched a fist and took a step forward. There was clearly no love lost between them. “Why you rat-slagging little – !”

Jazz caught his arm and stopped him. “Sunny, not now. We’re here to help remember.”

“Yeah, well we don’t need – ,” Blades started.

“Blades, shut up!” Hot Spot snapped as he came up. “Go make yourself useful somewhere instead of wasting that energy with your mouth.” He stepped towards Jazz with a hand extended. “Great to see you guys back in action.”

Jazz shook it. “Hey, just ‘cause we left the war, don’t mean we ain't Autobots anymore than you are.”

“So whats the situation?” Inferno asked. He was clearly eager to see some action.

“Townspeople took refuge inside the chapel when the storm hit,” Hot Spot said, as the remaining Protectobots joined the group. “They didn’t count on getting snowed in, with a couple of trees falling on the roof. We’ve got a couple of houses to the south on fire after taking a direct hit by lightning. It might be spreading.”

“Any people inside?” Trailbreaker asked.

“None that we know of,” Streetwise said. “The chapel minister said most of the people had come straight there.”

“Most, but not all,” said Sideswipe. “What about the rest of them? Where are they?”

The Protectobots stared st Sideswipe as if he’d just spoken in ancient Sumerian, but Jazz just smiled. He knew Sideswipe’s juvenile delinquency was sometimes just an act to cover up how intelligent he really was. Sunstreaker looked proud of his brother too.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do,” Jazz began.

“Whoa, hold on,” Blades interrupted. “Since when do we have to take orders from you?”

“Since now,” Hot Spot snapped. “So shut your mouth and do as you’re told.”

“Hot Spot, Inferno, Trailbreaker, head south and try to put out that fire. Blades go with them incase there are people who might need to get to a hospital asap,” Jazz went on without missing a beat. “Twins, Groove Streetwise, we’re gonna help the people in the chapel. Groove and Streets, clear the snow and start getting people out, priority to women and children. First Aid, be ready to take any wounded to a hospital. The Twins and I will try to get the trees off the roof.”

“You heard the mech, now lets move!” Hot Spot barked.

The two groups split up…. By the time night fell, and human emergency teams arrived, the Ark-bots and the Protectobots had accomplished most of what they’d set out to do. Sideswipe had been right about the people. The fire-control team had found a group of them taking refuge in a house that was next in line to becoming charcoal. A quick forcefield from Trailbreaker took care of that problem… At last the rescue mission wound down, till finally there were only the Autobots on the street. The storm had since died down to gusts of wind and falling snow.

Hot Spot came up to Jazz again. “Thanks for all the help. we couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

“Hey man, like I said, we’re Autobots, always will be,” Jazz replied.

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to return to active service? We could still use bots like you.”

“Quite sure. Besides, we’re a bit too old to keep fighting. Its time to let these young mechs have a taste of what it was like for us.”

“I understand… Well, take care, all of you. Hopefully we’ll be able to work together again another time.”

Jazz nodded. “Watch your backs. And Merry Christmas.” He returned to the others. “Well, our work here is done, lets head home.”

The Protectobots watched as they transformed and drove off. Groove came up to his leader.

“We should have told them,” he said. “Of all Autobots, they’re the ones who have the right to know.”

Hot Spot shook his head. “Its not our place to tell them, and neither are we authorized to do so.”

“And besides, even if we did, its not like they’re going to come back and fight the war,” Blades added. “They’re all washed up.”

“Blades, if you have nothing intelligent to say, don’t say anything,” Streetwise replied. “There’s still plenty of fight left in them. Its just a matter of where they choose to expend it.”

“At least talk to him,” First Aid said. “Tell him to go see them. He can call it a Christmas visit. They were some of his best soldiers Hot Spot, he owes it to them.”

Hot Spot sighed. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t know how much good it’ll do, but I’ll tell him…. Protectobots, lets go home.”

**#**

As Christmas neared, things at the Ark pretty much went back to normal – well, as normal as it ever got to them. Their tree and the entry-way into the Ark now had lights on them. Thanks to Sideswipe, everyone now also had a Santa hat, which each mech wore on and off. Presents, large and small, began to pile up under the tree, and Sideswipe and Bluestreak would often sneak down at night and give some of the boxes a shake, to try and guess what was inside. This went on for a few days, till Trailbreaker caught them one night and chased them back to their rooms, threatening to enclose the gifts in a forcefield if they ever tried that stunt again. Other than that, things had been pretty quiet.

“Too quiet,” Sunstreaker said. “Not even a call from the police station. Its like even all the scumbag criminals have decided to take a Christmas vacation.”

He sat with his brother on the couch in the lounge. The two had decided to have a ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’ marathon, just to break away a little bit from the traditional Christmas fare on TV. There were only so many ‘Home Alone’ reruns one could watch.

“Here’s an idea,” Sideswipe said, as Bluestreak strolled in and sat down next to him, sandwiching him in the middle of the couch. “Why don’t we build a fireplace in here?”

“And I suppose we’d use the crater as a chimney?” Sunstreaker asked. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

On the screen, Freddy was busy hacking into a hapless female victim. Sideswipe grinned. Bluestreak grimaced.

“That’s disgusting,” he said. “How can you watch this stuff?”

“What? It’s a classic,” Sideswipe replied. “Even Jazz’ll tell you that.”

“How do humans come up with this stuff anyways?”

“Who cares, I just like to watch it. There’s nothing else to do.”

“We could always go out and play in the snow.”

Sideswipe actually considered this. A little outdoors rough-housing wouldn’t hurt anyone now would it? Before he could say anything however, the alarms blared to life with a loud wailing. Sunstreaker stopped the movie.

“That’s the perimeter alarm,” said Bluestreak. “Someone must be wanting to get inside.”

“Lets go find out who it is,” Sideswipe said.

The trio headed down to the Control Room and when they stepped inside, they nearly collided with Tracks and Inferno. All the Ark-bots except Swoop, who was at school, had gathered, and were all staring at Teletran’s large viewscreen. The three looked as well, and optics flared in disbelief.

“Is that who I think it is?” Sideswipe asked.

“It cant be,” said Hound. “We… we were there… we….”

“We all saw him dead,” said Inferno.

“Its probably a trick of some sort,” said Tracks.

All of them looked surprised, Sideswipe noted, except Jazz and Mirage. Somehow they’d already known about him. This was what Mirage had gone to tell Jazz about that night.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” said Sunstreaker. “Let’s go out and get him.”

“Whoa, hold on,” Jazz said. “If this is a trick, there’s no point in all of us rushing out there at once. Hound and I will go. The rest of you stay in the lounge.”

The two mechs headed outside to meet their visitor. He straightened when he saw them come out.

“Jazz, Hound. I cant tell you how good it is to see you again.”

“Its good to see you too Optimus,” Jazz replied. “Though you’ll forgive us for not jumpin’ up and down with joy. We’ve had this kinda trick played on us before.”

“And it doesn’t help that the last time we saw you, you were dead,” Hound added.

“I understand your suspicions, and I’m glad to see that you still remain vigilant. I knew there would be questions, so all I can do is show you this and hope that you will believe that I am the real Prime.”

He opened his chest compartment and withdrew a golden orb that glowed faintly in the center with a pale blue light.

“The Matrix,” said Jazz. “But its almost empty.”

“I had to use it to cure the Hate Plague, but don’t worry, as we all grow a little wiser everyday, its starting to fill again.”

“Good t’hear. Well I guess since you’re the real deal, we can let you in; though I don’t know what kinda response you’ll get.”

“We’ll soon find out,” said Hound.

Prime looked up at the decorations across the entrance of the Ark as they went inside. “Sideswipe’s handywork I presume?”

“Hehe, you have no idea,” Jazz chuckled. “Just wait till you see the lounge.” He was still a little in shock that he was standing there and talking to his former leader who, only 2 years ago, had been very much dead. Ye he was trying to take it all in his stride.

“The place still feels like home,” Prime said of the Ark as they walked. “That picture of Ratchet in the Med Bay, who did that?”

“You’ll never guess,” said Hound. “Our very own Bluestreak.”

“Bluestreak?!”

“Yep. He’s quite the budding Picasso,” said Jazz. “He’s a full-time artist now. Well. We’re here.”

The 3 stepped into the lounge and all optics fell on them, eyeing Prime suspiciously. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker tensed, ready to spring at the slightest hint of a threat.

“Chill guys,” Jazz said. “Prime’s for real. He’s back.”

There was another moment of silence. Then Bluestreak jumped up, came upto Prime and extended a paint-stained hand.

“Welcome back Prime,” he said.

Prime placed a hand on his shoulder. “Its good to see you again too Bluestreak. Its good to see all of you.”

“Does that mean Prowl and Ratchet and Ironhide and Wheeljack and Brawn and Windcharger are…”

“Whoa there Blue,” Inferno said. “Let the rest of us greet the mech too, before you swamp him with questions.”

The others then came forward to say their hellos. Sideswipe seemed to be happy to see his former leader, but Sunstreaker was still wary, and only exchanged a quick 3-second handshake. Finally, they all sat down together.

“So Prime, what took you so long to come see us?” Sunstreaker asked bluntly. “The Plague ended months ago.”

“We had a lot of work to do at Metroplex, and on Cybertron. Believe me, had I the time, I would have indeed come down sooner.”

“That busy huh?” Mirage asked a little sarcastically.

Jazz watched the two mechs closely. Both still seemed unconvinced that this was really Prime. It was either that, or they were not too happy to see him back; they had reason to after all. Much as Jazz respected Prime, these were his bots now, and he had to watch out for them.

“I’m afraid so,” Prime replied. “So, tell me my friends, how have you all been?”

“Hold it,” Sunstreaker cut in again. “We’re not telling you anything until you tell us how the slag you’re sitting here. ‘Cause the last time some of us saw you, you were lying in a box looking like so much charcoal.”

“The Quintessons,” Prime said simply.

“Quintessons?” Jazz looked up sharply. “You were brought back by Quintessons?”

“Regretfully, yes.”

“What are Quintessons?” Sideswipe asked.

“A race of ugly five-faced aliens claiming to be our creators. I tangled with a couple back in my early days with Prime,” Jazz said. He looked at Prime. “I think you owe us the whole story.”

So Prime told them, and as the others listened, the expressions on some of the mechs’ faces changed. Bluestreak flinched and fixed his optics on the Christmas Tree. Sunstreaker’s face went as black as a thundercloud. The others struggled to maintain optic contact. By the time he had finished, there was pindrop silence in the lounge. Finally, Sunstreaker stood up – a look of disgust on his face – and walked out.

“Sunny?” Sideswipe jumped up and went after him. “Hey Sunny, wait up!”

“They’ll be alright,” Inferno said. “Ya know ol’ Sunstreaker’s got a temper.”

“Indeed,” said Prime. “Now, tell me about yourselves. What have you all been doing since you returned?”

They talked a while more, each mech taking his turn to tell Prime all they they had done, and were doing. Once they had finished, Prime stood up.

“I fear I would be less than honest with all of you if I said that I only came here on a social visit,” he said. “The truth is, I also came here to ask if any of you would like to rejoin the Autobot army.”

“You cant be serious,” Mirage replied.

“I am. I would like to have you all back again. Each of you is irreplaceable, and it would be an honor to fight beside you again.”

“Its funny how you can ask this of us after we’ve just told you how well we’ve all been since leaving the war. So I hope you don’t mind if I decline your offer,” was Mirage’s short reply. He stood up and walked out as well.

Tracks and Hound followed soon after, having politely refused. Bluestreak just walked out without a word.

“I’m too old to keep this up Prime,” Trailbreaker said. “I can barely keep a forcefield up without getting drained.”

“I understand Trailbreaker. What about you Inferno?”

“Sorry Prime. Much as I like the action, I cant bear to go back and see more good mechs die around me,” the red mech replied. “So if you’ll excuse me…”

“Of course.”

Finally, only Jazz was left. He and Prime went back a long way. Prime’s cause had given him something to live for back then – gave him a purpose – and he owed it to him. Still, Jazz felt he’d more than payed back his debts over the past few million years. Prime met his gaze.

“I’ve lost too many friends to this war Prime,” he said. “Too many good friends.”

“As have I, but sometimes as a leader, I have to make sacrifices.”

“You’re right… sacrifices have to be made, and I’ve made a lot of them. I’m a leader now too, Prime, and being a leader means that I’m responsible for these guys. If they’re staying here, then so am I. I cant leave them, and I wont leave them. They’re all I have right now.”

Prime sighed. “I guess it was too much to hope for.”

“It was too much to ask. But don’t worry Prime. Those young guys up there, they’ve all got a lot of potential. You just need to believe in them like you believed in us. There’s still a lot of good to come of them.”

“I suppose you’re right Jazz. I need to show a little more faith in them.”

“Just one thing before you go Prime… what happened to Blaster? And Perceptor and the Dinobots?”

Prime cast his optics down for a moment and Jazz knew he was considering whether or not to tell him. Finally he looked up again. “They’re missing. Blaster was stranded on Charr when the Plague hit. We contacted Cybertron and Perceptor took the Dinobots to try and find him, but we havent heard from any of them since.”

“Didn’t you send anyone else to go look for them.”

“We didn’t have anyone else willing to go, neither did we want to risk anymore Autobots disappearing.”

“Right.” Jazz tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but was only 90% successful. “Well, its good to see you back Prime. C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

They found the Twins outside – Sunstreaker leaning sullenly against one of the doorways, Sideswipe sitting on a rock nearby. Prime stopped by the yellow mech.

“Sunstreaker, I know we havent always gotten along in the past,” he started to say, and put a hand on the other mech’s shoulder.

Faster than a coiled snake, Sunstreaker lashed out, slapping Prime’s hand away and hit him square in the jaw with his other fist. The force and quickness of the blow sent Prime stumbling back a few steps. Sunstreaker advanced on him.

“Uh Sunny? What the slag do you think you’re doing?” Sideswipe asked.

“Yeah man, calm down. There’s no need for this,” Jazz said.

“Both of you shut the frag up and stay out of this!” he snarled.

“Sunstreaker, I know you’re upset,” Prime said. He blocked another blow with his forearm, but didn’t try to fight back. “I’m very sorry, but –.”

“Shut up! Saying you’re sorry doesn’t change the fact that you killed them!”

“It wasn’t like that.” Prime ducked another blow.

“It was everything like that! You didn’t see the effort some of us put into building that mausoleum. You don’t know the oil we bled and the tears we shed as we laid each of you inside. No, you had to send the thing into the sun! You were supposed to stay dead!”

“I didn’t ask to come back.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. And when I first saw you, I had some hope that maybe there was a way we could bring Prowl and Ratchet and the others back too. Do you know what it feels like to have your last slagging hope crushed?!”

“Sunstreaker, I truly am…”

“DON’T tell me you’re slagging sorry! If you were the righteous slagger everyone makes you out to be, none of this would have happened in the first place! But no! you had to have your way. You didn’t care about who you hurt, who you abandonded or who you left defenseless! All you cared about was Megatron on that Primus-damned planet!”

“You don’t understand…”

Sunstreaker charged him, ploughing his shoulder into Prime’s mid-section. Prime absorbed the blow and went down. Sunstreaker knelt over him, arm raised and hand clenched into a fist. But he didn’t move to hit him.

“I understand this – you spat on the face of all of us who stood by you for the past 20 years. You left Autobot City defenseless. You sent Prowl and the others to their deaths, not once, but twice! Didn’t they mean ANYTHING to you?! They worked the slag off their skidplates for you, and that was how you repaid them?! A fragging energon-run?!”

“We needed the energon…”

“If you hadnt moved us all to those wretched moon-bases, this wouldn’t have happened! We could have gathered all our forces here on Earth and then once we reached full power, we could have attacked them. Prowl told you, Ironhide told you, Ratchet told you, Jazz told you, but you didn’t listen! You didn’t WANT to listen! Primus damn you!!”

Sideswipe and Jazz watched from nearby, both at a loss to do anything; and even if they could have, neither wanted to risk Sunstreaker’s wrath. Sideswipe had never seen his brother get this emotional, yet it didn’t surprise him. Of all of them, Sunstreaker had remained the most stoic during the time the rest of them were trying to come to terms with their losses. He had been the strong one then.

“He’s grieving now,” Jazz murmured softly, as if he had guessed what Sideswipe had been thinking. “Its all coming out.”

Sideswipe just nodded. It was, he could feel it.

“Then you fragging died,” Sunstreaker went on. “And you left us with the burden. WE were the ones who had to deal with the grief and the losses.” His voice began to quaver, and looking at his face, Prime saw tears beginning to flow from his optics. “You werent there, you didn’t see what we had to go through. You don’t know what we STILL go through!” he pointed at Sideswipe. “My brother blames himself everyday for what happened to Wheeljack and Windcharger. The guilt is tearing him apart, and I can only watch, because no matter how much I tell him its not his fault, he has to live with the fact that he failed to protect them. Why? Because there was no one else around to help him. He’s a damn good warrior, but even he cant beat two triple-changers by himself.”

Sideswipe looked away and Jazz reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Swoop. Thank Primus he’s in school right now so he doesn’t have to know you ever came here… You didn’t see the look on his face when he came up to us and asked to be taken away from this war. You robbed that kid of the closest thing he had ever known as parents. You robbed all the Dinobots. Ratchet and Wheeljack were slowly trying to upgrade them, and they were making progress. If they’d been successful, the Dinobots would have been just as intelligent as any other Autobot, Swoop especially, but I guess we’ll never know now will we? We have to resort to sending Swoop to a human school, and as for the other four…”

“They never told me they were doing something like that,” Prime said.

“They never told you because they knew you didn’t like the Dinobots, and didn’t think they were capable of ever being intelligent. They figured you wouldn’t approve of what they were doing.”

Sunstreaker lowered his arm slightly.

“And Bluestreak. You’ll never know how much that kid suffered. Prowl was the closest thing he had to a big brother. He was getting better, Prowl was making him better. And then Prowl was gone. We had to lock Bluestreak up in a cell in Autobot City just to make sure he didn’t hurt himself or anyone else. He wouldn’t talk to anyone. It was like he had just given up speaking. The only time he made any kind of sound was when he’d randomly burst into tears, and he did that a lot. I should know. Sideswipe and I sat outside his cell for three days. Even now I sometimes hear him cry at night, when he thinks he’s alone and no one can hear him.”

Sunstreaker backed off and stood up.

“So Merry Christmas to you Prime, and thanks for ruining ours.”

He turned and walked back into the Ark, Sideswipe quickly following after him. As the Twins went inside, Bluestreak came out carrying something in his hands. Prime got to his feet as the silver mech neared.

“Here,” Bluestreak said, holding out the portrait of Prime. “This belongs with you now. It was a tribute. But since you’re not dead anymore…. Just… just take it.” He shoved it into Prime’s hands and all but ran back inside.

Prime saw Jazz looking at him. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he said.

“Well its too late now,” Jazz replied. “Whats done is done. Its not like you can go back and change everything. They’re gone forever now.”

“I truly am sorry Jazz.”

Jazz shrugged and tried to smile. “Nobody’s perfect… Merry Christmas Prime. Tell everyone at Metroplex we said ‘Hi’ will ya?”

“I will. Goodbye Jazz.”

“See ya Prime.”

The two mechs went their separate ways. Jazz tried to feel a little guilty for not keeping control of Sunstreaker, but somehow couldn’t bring himself to, because he knew that what the yellow mech had said was true. And part of himself was just as furious at Prime – not only for the fiasco at Autobot City and sending the mausoleum into the sun, but also for abandoning Blaster, Perceptor and the Dinobots in space. Jazz respected his former leader, but the trust they had once shared was, at the very least fractured, if not broken.

Jazz shook his head. He needed to clear his mind before he tried thinking of, or planning, anything else. So instead of going back into the Ark, he transformed and drove off, heading for the city.

**#**

_Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy  
Do you hear what I hear?  
Ringing through the night shepherd boy  
Do you hear what I hear?  
A song, a song, high above the trees  
With a voice as big as the sea  
With a voice as big as the sea…_

The cemetary was mostly deserted when Jazz reached it. He trudged through the thick layer of snow and made his way to the more isolated parts. A chilly breeze blew across the tombstones and stripped another layer of heat off Jazz’s armor. He barely noticed. He reached Anna’s grave and found several tree branches fallen across it, along with a heavy layer of snow. So he spent the good part of an hour clearing the branches and brushing away the snow. Once he was finished, he brought out a bunch of deep-red roses and laid them beneath the tombstone.

It was at that point that he found himself missing his little friend again, especially now that he needed someone to talk to. Anna would have understood him he knew, and she would have given him at least some advice, or a guideline, on what to do next. He stood up, with a loving pat on the top of the tombstone, and headed out again.

As he began the trip back to the Ark again, he found himself driving past Sacred Heart Cathedral, and he slowed. The Nativity scene was completed and he took a moment to admire the work the youth groups had put into it. The bells were silent, but from somewhere within, the sound of the choir drifted out and reached his audios. Jazz braked abruptly and transformed. He walked to the entrance, pushed open the doors and ducked inside. The ceiling rose a good 2 meters above his head, so he was able to stand up straight.

For a while he just stood there and took in the beauty of the cathedral – the altar, the stained-glass windows, the painted walls and ceiling, the intricately sculpted statues. It was a lovely blend of Art and Architecture, and Jazz could really appreciate something like that. Yet even more appealing was the sound of the choir that sung in the loft above him. Harmonies blended together like colors on the paintings. The wooden pews were too fragile to support his weight, so instead he sat down on the floor, at the back, to listen.

Except for himself and the choir, for the most part, the cathedral was empty. Then, his sharp audios heard a door close from somewhere within, and the next moment, a priest appeared from a room behind the altar. His eyes came to rest on Jazz and for a moment he looked quite surprised. Jazz didn’t blame him. It wasn’t everyday he’d find an Autobot in his church. Coming down the altar steps, the priest walked up the aisle to where Jazz was.

“Welcome friend,” he said. “No, please, do not rise. There is no need. Though I am curious as to why I have an Autobot sitting in my church. My name is Father Matthew.”

“Name’s Jazz.” He extended a hand, and the priest shook it. “I was just passing by and I heard the choir singing, so I popped in to listen. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Father Matthew replied. “Its rare to find humans, let alone Autobots, who can appreciate good, traditional choral music.”

“Hey, if its good music, I can appreciate it no matter what category it falls into. And the choir you got here is really good.”

“Ah, a true music lover. It is true then, that music is the universal language.”

Jazz’s smile faltered a little bit. “I had a friend who said the exact same thing once.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh he’s not dead, at least I don’t think he is. He’s missin’, him and five others. They’re lost somewhere in space and… and I just wish there was something I could do, instead of just sittin’ on my can and hopin’ for the best.”

“There is always something you can do Jazz, no matter how small the task. The only way you can be defeated is if you admit defeat. If you care for these friends, you will find a way. Have faith.”

_Oh come all ye faithful  
Joyful and triumphant  
Oh come ye, Oh come ye  
To Bethlehem…_

Jazz grinned as the choir began another song. “Hey wait,” he called as Father Matthew began to walk away. “There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask someone in your line of work.”

Father Matthew came back and sat down on the edge of the pew in front of Jazz. “And what is this question?”

“Christmas,” Jazz said. “What is it, really? I mean, I know the old story, and most of the traditions, but is there something more to it?”

The priest stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Christmas is indeed all that,” he said. “A time of hope, love, joy, a time of celebration where we welcome the birth of our god.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, in this day and age, I’m sorry to say, people tend to focus more on the celebrating and less on the purpose of the celebration. Christmas has a lot of meanings Jazz.”

“Can you tell me some?”

“Well, there are some who see Christmas as an end. After all, it occurs during the last month of the year, in the last season of the year. So some see it as a time to reflect back on what has already transpired. But as you know, Christmas is also about birth – beginnings, if you will. Starting anew, like beginning a journey in search of something.” He looked meaningfully at Jazz as he said that. “It means courage. Courage to overcome your fears, courage to go on, like the shepherds who braved their fears to find the Child. There is sacrifice – where the family gave up the comfort of a home and instead had the Baby in a barn. The faith of the Three Wise Men that the star they were following would lead them to their destination.”

Jazz nodded in understanding. “I think I know what I gotta do.”

“I think you knew all along.”

“Yeah, maybe I did. Thanks Father Matthew.” He stood up. “Give my compliments to your choir.”

“I will.” The priest stood as well and drew a Cross in the air with his right hand. “Whatever god you pray to, may his blessings go with you.”

Jazz smiled his thanks, ducked out of the cathedral and stepped back onto the street.

**#**

Sunstreaker was parked outside Swoop’s school. He had no idea why he was there, he just had to get away from the Ark and the incident that had just happened outside. He hadnt meant to take it as far as he had, but part of him said he was justified to have done so. He’d been simmering on the inside long enough…. Then he remembered Jazz asking them to keep an optic on the Dinobot, so he stuck around a while longer.

Swoop’s big dance was the following night, and if Sunstreaker knew anything about human teenagers, today was the last shot they’d have at doing something. Soon enough, the school let out and after a while, Swoop came down the steps. From where he was parked, Sunstreaker could see him talking to a dark-haired boy – his friend Connor. The yellow mech turned up his audios to hear part of the conversation.

“I don’t know Swoop, I’m not the school-dance type. No one’s ever asked me to one before.”

“That why I asking now,” Swoop replied. “Me not pretty girl, but I would like you to come. You, Connor, my good friend.”

“But I cant do any fancy dance moves or stuff like that. What if I embarrass you?”

Sunstreaker noticed the boy was limping, and that Swoop was deliberately walking slowly so his friend could keep pace with him.

“Well Swoop too big to do fancy dance moves, so we even. Please Connor? Me not want to go without you.” Swoop looked down at the boy, blue optics glowing.

Connor looked up at the Dinobot and smiled. “Oh alright. But if I don’t like it, I’m coming straight home.”

“You got deal.”

At this point, three larger built boys blocked their way. Sunstreaker tensed. If there was going to be any physical abuse, there was nothing much Swoop could do. The Dinobot would never hurt a human.

“Maybe you should just stay at home permanently Conman,” the one in the middle said. “Its where freaks like you belong.”

“Yeah, what are you gonna do anyway? Limp all over the dancefloor?” the one on the left asked.

The boy on the right laughed, and then proceded to imitate Connor’s way of walking. Then he stopped and shoved the smaller boy, who would have fallen back if Swoop hadnt quickly caught him in his hand.

“You leave Connor alone!” he said angrily. “He coming to the dance with me, and there nothing you can do about it.”

“Well ain't that cute,” the center boy said. “The lame freak and the stupid robot. You gotta be a real dumb-ass if you’re still stuck in high-school. Hey, maybe the Autobots shoulda sent you to nursery school instead.”

The three boys laughed louder. Sunstreaker had had enough. He transformed and strode darkly across the grass. His shadow fell across the three laughing boys. Swoop stared at him.

“What you doing here?”

“I was in the area.” Sunstreaker replied. He picked up the center boy in dangled him between his finger and thumb. The boy suddenly looked terrified. “Did you just call him stupid?” The boy’s eyes went wide and he trembled.

“Sunstreaker, no hurt him,” Swoop said.

The yellow mech brought the kid upto optic level. “The way I see it, the only dumb-ass around here is the one I’m looking at. The guy who’s too stupid to understand that if you insult a giant robot, you might just get stepped on. And as for the ‘lame’ part, maybe you boys would like to know what that’s like. I could arrange it right now.” He looked at the other two boys on the ground and flexed the fingers on his free hand.

“P-please, we d-didn’t m-mean anything, w-we were j-just teasing,” the boy in his grip said.

Sunstreaker gave him such a look of disgust that the boy quickly snapped his mouth shut. “Y’know, I’ve done my fair share of killing and maiming over the centuries, but I’ve never once kicked a mech who was already down.” He bent down and tossed the boy on his buddies. “Now say you’re sorry and get the slag out of my sight. And don’t let me catch you picking on defenseless kids again.”

The three boys scrambled to their feet and tore off down the road. Swoop and Connor looked at Sunstreaker, who frowned at them.

“What? I’m entitled to do a good deed now and then. I gotta prove I’m still an Autobot don’t I?” He bent and looked at Connor, still sitting in Swoop’s hand. “How’d you like a ride home in the best-looking Lamborghini alive huh kid?” he asked.

“You mean that?” Connor asked.

“Guess I do. This is Christmas after all, makes me wanna be all slagging nice all of a sudden. This is pretty much the only time you’ll ever catch me giving a ride to a human.” He looked at Swoop. “And if you say a word of this to Sideswipe…”

Swoop grinned. “Me not say a word.”

Sunstreaker stepped onto the road and transformed, opening his front passenger door. Swoop placed Connor inside and helped strap him in. 

“Catch you back at the Ark,” Sunstreaker told the Dinobot, and drove off.

**#**

Sideswipe leaned against the doorframe of the lab, staring inside, but not daring to go in. He could just see Wheeljack pottering about inside, mixing this and that, welding here, hammering there and, more often than not, the inevitable explosion that would follow. Sideswipe wondered how it was the Ark had escaped any serious damage as a result of Wheeljack’s experiments gone wrong. He’d liked the mad engineer a lot.

“Sideswipe?”

The vision vanished as the red mech looked back and saw Jazz coming up, back from his trip to the city. The black and white mech looked different somehow, as if he’d made up his mind about something.

“You alright Sides?” Jazz asked.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Sideswipe replied.

“Then why are you standing here looking into the dark?”

Dark? Sideswipe could have sworn that there had been a light on inside the lab. But when he looked now, he saw that it was indeed dark inside.

“I thought I saw… uh… nevermind.” The red mech shook his head.

Jazz smiled and nodded. “I know.”

“You’ve seen them?”

“Every once in a while. Found Windcharger’s door open once and when I peeked inside, I could have sworn I saw him sitting and tinkering with one of his projects. One night I thought I heard Ratchet and Brawn having a fine ol’ shouting match right outside my room.”

Sideswipe laughed. “That must have been fun.”

“Oh it was, believe me. It was as if they’d never left. Bluestreak said he thought he saw Prowl once, walking down a hallway like he owned the place. And Trailbreaker swears he hears Ironhide’s voice coming from the lounge now and then.”

“Hehe, its like they’re haunting us or something.”

“Well, its nice to think they havent totally left us, so I don’t think I’ll be calling the Ghostbusters anytime soon.”

“That’s a nice thought.” Sideswipe sighed.

Jazz placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let it go Sides. You did all you could, there’s no need for you to feel this guilty. Don’t let it eat you away.”

Sideswipe looked at him. “I don’t know how. I’ve never failed like this before.”

“Its not failure. Sometimes things are bound to happen no matter what you do. What matters is, you tried, and I know Wheeljack forgives you. Look.”

Jazz nodded towards the lab. Sideswipe looked in again and could just make out a faint vision of Wheeljack giving him a thumbs-up. Then he blinked, and the vision was gone. He looked at Jazz.

“Hound’s not here, so no, I didn’t plan this,” Jazz replied. “I think he’s been waiting for you all along, to come down here and see him.”

The red mech sighed, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“That make you feel any better?” Jazz asked.

“Yeah, a lot better. Guess I can stop giving myself grief about what happened huh?”

“You bet.”

Sideswipe gave him a small smile, then tuned and walked back up the hallway, saying he was going to hang out in his room for a while. Jazz watched him go, then opened a comm.link and hailed a few of the other Ark-bots.

“Alright boys, listen up. I got some stuff I need y’all to help me out with.”

**#**

And soon it was Christmas Day. Sideswipe woke up, all but leaping out of his plating at the prospect of finally getting to open his Christmas presents. The previous day, he and Sunstreaker had been sent to help chaperone Swoop’s school dance, and much to his surprise, Sunny hadnt even kicked up much of a fuss. When they got back, Sideswipe had found the lounge locked and reinforced with one of Trailbreaker’s forcefields. Muttering a string of half-curses under his breath, he’d gone to bed. And now, finally, Christmas morning had come. He lept from the top bunk, landed lithely on the floor and slipped on his Santa hat. Then he proceeded to badger his brother who was still asleep on the lower bunk.

“Wake up you rusting bag of spare parts!” he yelled.

“Slag off,” was the muttered reply.

In response, Sideswipe took hold of an arm and tugged. “C’mon ya big, yellow lump, its Christmas morning!”

“If you don’t get your grubby hands off my paint, it’ll be your LAST Christmas morning,” Sunstreaker growled.

“Fine.” Sideswipe let him go. “I’ll just go open my presents without you.”

He stomped out of the room and made his way down to the lounge. The forcefield was gone and the doors were open, which meant some of the others were already up and inside. He went in, then stopped short and stared. The large TV had been moved up against one of the walls and on the screen was displayed a brightly burning digital fire. Above the TV, hanging from green tinsel, were all their stockings. Sideswipe gaped. All the other Ark-bots were there looking back at him, all wearing their Santa hats.

Sunstreaker came up from behind him and gave him a nudge. Sideswipe looked at his brother.

“You guys did this?”

Sunstreaker shrugged. Then, in a rare display of affection, reached out and hugged his twin. “Merry Christmas bro.”

“You too Sunny.”

“Hey Siders, catch!” Jazz called, and tossed him his first present. “Let the frenzy begin!”

Two hours later, the floor of the lounge was covered in brightly-colored wrapping paper and ribbons, and each Autobot sat surrounded by various and sundry items – from DVDs to video games to books to several kinds of car waxes and polishes. Inferno held up a large, antique doll dressed in old-fashioned colonial clothes, and looked at Jazz, who nodded and smiled back. Finally Tracks stood up and headed to the door. At the same time, Sunstreaker got up and headed for the energon dispenser. Both mechs crossed just inside the door.

“Hey guys, wait up,” Sideswipe called, and they stopped. “Arent you two forgetting something?”

He pointed above them and they looked up to see that they were standing under a sprig of mistletoe. Tracks looked at Sunstreaker. The yellow mech took a wary step back.

“You re not seriously thinking of…”.

“Of course not!” Tracks replied, indignant. “What kind of a mech do you think I am?” A few snickers came from some of the other Autobots. “Don’t answer that. I WAS thinking, however, that we forget our differences for today and work together for once.” He ticked his gaze over to Sideswipe, who sat on the floor grinning.

Sunstreaker saw the light. “Ahh, work together against a common enemy, I get ya. You got yourself a deal.”

They lunged for Sideswipe. The red mech was up and running in seconds, and dashed out of the lounge, Tracks and Sunstreaker in hot pursuit. Jazz grinned and went back to gathering and smoothing out the sheets of wrapping paper around him. Later, Bluestreak went off to his room to draw something, saying he had a flash of inspiration. Inferno left to take the extra toys to the children’s hospital, Swoop left to take Connor some gifts.

Some time later, Teletran 1 beeped to life with an image of Sideswipe lying on the ground, bound hand and foot with several layers of colored wire, a wreath of mistletoe on his head. Tracks and Sunstreaker stood over him grinning evilly. Carefully scrutinizing the background, Jazz soon saw why. They were outside a Girl Scout camp. Laughter echoed up and down the hallways.

**#**

Two days after Christmas, Jazz assembled all the Ark-bots in the lounge. The fun was over. Now it was time for business, to announce the thought that had taken shape in his head that day at the Cathedral. Still, as Jazz looked at the Autobots gathered in front of him, he knew explaining that thought to the others was not going to be easy.

“Alright, listen up you guys. I’m gonna make this swift and painless by getting straight to the point. Blaster, Perceptor and the remaining 4 Dinobots are missing somewhere in space.” Swoop’s head snapped up, but Jazz silenced him with a look before he could speak. Then he continued. “No, neither Metroplex nor Cybertron are going to risk anymore Autobots going out to look for them. I can understand that, they still have ‘Cons to fight, but at the same time, we cant just leave those six out there either. It ain't right.”

“So what are you suggestin’?” Inferno asked.

“I’m gonna go look for ‘em.” Jazz held up a hand, stopping any protest before it could be voiced. “I’ve already made up my mind, so there’s no use tryin’ to talk me out of it. Blaster’s cassettes are still at Metroplex, so I’m gonna see if they’ll be willing to come with me. Besides them, I’m gonna need to volunteers.”

The Twins instantly lept to their feet, before anyone else could even stir. Secretly, Jazz was glad. He didn’t doubt any of the others’ abilities, but the Brothers were the best pair of mechs to have as backup – fast, strong, resourceful. He should’ve guessed that they’d be only too willing. The three got along well and they had a good history together. Still, he felt obliged to tell them.

“Its gonna be dangerous. We don’t know what we’re gonna be facing.”

“Like that’s ever stopped us before,” said Sunstreaker.

“Yeah, we laugh in the face of danger, remember?” Sideswipe said.

“You’re gonna be away from home for quite a long time.”

They shrugged. “Been there, done that.”

Jazz grinned. “Guess there’s no way I’m gonna talk you outta this is there?”

“Not really,” said Sideswipe.

“You’re stuck with us,” Sunstreaker added.

Jazz turned back to the others. “The rest of you just carry on as per normal. Mirage, I’m leaving you in charge. Take care of everyone. We’ll be back as soon as we’ve found Blaster and Co. I’m sorry to have to spring this on you guys on short notice, but someone’s gotta go after them, and if no one else is gonna bother, then its gotta be us.”

“Call it a New Year’s resolution,” Sideswipe said, and sauntered out of the room, Sunstreaker following.

**#**

~ END.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written about a year or so after the main Trio of the Jazz Collection. I wanted this to be the start of another trilogy, unfortunately I just never got around to writing the second installment. Luckily, this can be a stand-alone piece on its own.
> 
> I understand Optimus might be a little bit OOC here, but I guess I kind of needed it, and at the time I was still not used to writing Optimus as a character for the simple reason that I did not know him very well yet.


End file.
